


Shaving

by Doctorwhogirl13



Series: Sherlock and John one Shots [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Implied Johnlock, M/M, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 11:37:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6983335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctorwhogirl13/pseuds/Doctorwhogirl13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock trusts John with his life, again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shaving

The sounds of running water came from the bath sink of 221B. John raised an eyebrow as he checked the time on his watch. He was proud of Sherlock having slept until late morning, but the last few days had been grueling for them both. 

He stood up and plodded over to the open door, still in his dressing gown. “I see someone actually got some sleep” John remarked.

“Hmm...you did say ‘doctors orders, get some bloody sleep’ if I correctly recall.” Sherlock retorted as he lathered up his neck, covering up the stubble that gathered. 

“You won't listen to me if I simply ask, so I've learned to demand.” John said as he leaned against the door frame. 

“I must be your most difficult patient to date” Sherlock said with a smirk. 

“Yes you are. But I suppose I tolerate it.” 

Sherlock glanced over at John. His John. Looking handsome as ever with sleep tousled hair, and eyes not fully alert from the morning cuppa. Stop thinking anything will happen. He hasn't indicated he wants anything more from you than friendship.

Methodically, he grabbed his razor from the cabinet and made a single stroke down his cheek, very aware of John’s eyes watching his every move. 

“If you're going to stand there and watch, then you could offer to help.” He remarked, handing the razor towards John.

There was a moment of hesitation between them both, judging each other's reactions, before John accepted. 

“Sit on the edge of the bath. I can't reach that high. And not a word about my height.” He quickly remarked. 

Almost cautiously, Sherlock sat down, and braced his arms on either side. _What are you doing, you dolt. He could slit your throat with the razor. But it's John, I trust John with my life. He's saved you from countless events._ Thoughts were pushed aside as the razor made the first slide down his cheek in John's hand. 

“I'm not going to cut you, you know. I have a doctor’s steady hand, and have done this a few times myself.” John said with a chuckle. 

“Make sure you get the sideburns. I don't fancy them.” Sherlock commented, trying to get rid of his uneasy sounding tone, but failing. 

“I am observant. More so than you give me credit for. I know what you like.” He said, gently nudging Sherlock’s chin to get him to tip his head to the left.  
Sherlock complied and began to relax into the motion and the sounds that were almost soothing. John was very gentle and methodical, perfect qualities in a doctor. 

“Have you...ever done this before? For someone else, I mean?” 

“Uhh...nope. This would be the first time.” John rinsed the razor again of the shaving cream. “Not as hard as it would seem. But I'm thankful it's not with one of those older, straight razors. I don't know if I would trust myself with that.” John said with a bit of a laugh. 

_I would trust you with one. Now where did that thought come from? He's probably this gentle in everything he does... No, stop. Not the time for such useless thoughts. He wouldn't want you. You're damaged._

“Tilt the other way for me. We really need better lighting in here.” 

“Mrs Hudson doesn't like renovations.”

“No, she doesn't like you putting useless holes in her walls. There's a difference.”

Few more strokes with the razor. That made 24 small strokes in total. All committed to John's room in the Palace. 

“Just about done...there. Finished.” John handed Sherlock a clean towel to wipe off. “Feel better?”

The detective nodded. “Much more my old self again. I concede the bathroom to your morning routines.” He quickly stood and left, closing his bedroom door behind him. 

John stood there, still holding the razor and towel. “You're welcome!”


End file.
